


man to man

by redpaint



Series: conflict resolution [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Mile High Club, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Sochi 2019, Rivalry, Semi-Public Sex, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, bad consent practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 04:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redpaint/pseuds/redpaint
Summary: Seb barely has any room at all to kneel. He sits back on his heels and looks up. “Is this what you wanted?” He’s not about togiveCharles anything. He wants to hear him ask— and if he won’t ask, then he’ll need to have the guts to take.





	man to man

The first time they did this, he was shocked by how warm Charles was, how the heat seemed to pour off him, radiating through his team polo. It made Seb want to get closer, to feel that heat on every spot that their bodies touched. By now it’s familiar, Seb’s hands warming on his chest as he crowds Charles up against the wall of the tiny jet bathroom.

“You just don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

“Why should I? I can tell how much you like it when I’m vocal.” Charles makes his eyes wide in faux innocence. _”Please Seb, I want you so bad.”_ It’s a mockery of a bedroom voice, but it still manages to go to Seb’s dick. However, he’s taken aback by the wave of real anger that runs through him too. He’s never wanted to be an angry man, but the way Charles luxuriates in pushing his buttons sets his nerves on fire.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“Oh, is it?” Charles presses into him, and there’s no hiding that he’s hard, really fucking hard in his jeans. Seb wishes he could lie to himself and believe that he had pulled Charles back here for a conversation that would end in greater mutual understanding or something like that. But as soon as he slid the flimsy plastic door shut, separating them off from the sleeping team members in the cabin, he knew what he was doing.

“Is that really what you want to do? In here, while they’re all out there? Come on, I thought they said you were smart for your age.” He keeps his tone teasing, leaning in to whisper the last few words against Charles’s ear.

“If we get caught we get caught. Now that would be weird for the team; they would probably have to pick one driver to stay.” Charles smirks and stops leaning against the mirror, pushing into Sebastian’s hand and making him step back to keep his balance.

“You better not get us caught then,” Sebastian says, and nips Charles’s earlobe. A voice in the back of his head tells him that what he really wants is to bite down harder, draw blood, fill out the contours of his anger with a little cruelty. But he doesn’t, instead running one hand up Charles’s side under his shirt, savoring the heat. His fingers must be cold; Charles exhales hard and grabs Sebastian’s wrist. Using his leverage he spins them around so that Sebastian is the one up against the wall, the sliding door creaking in protest.

“With an idea like this I can’t believe you don’t want us to,” he says with a measure of indifference, and drag’s Sebastian’s hand to the front of his pants. Seb grinds his palm into Charles’s hard cock, a little firmer than he needs to. Charles is fixing him with an aloof gaze, but he’s pushing back against Seb all the same. He leans closer and braces his free hand on the wall above Seb’s shoulder to get a better angle. “I guess you _can_ follow polite directions.” 

Seb is loathe to let Charles think he’s the one who gets to dictate the terms. He moves his hand to Charles’s ass and pulls him in closer, letting him rock against his thigh. With his other hand he reaches up and grabs Charles’s chin and twists his face away. Charles puts up some fight, but Seb keeps his grip and runs a soothing thumb over his stubble. Charles’s breathing is heavier in his ear as he licks a line under his jaw, just barely grazing it with his teeth. “No one put you in charge,” he murmurs against the skin there. It’s easier to speak when Charles isn’t fixing him with that stare, practically daring Seb to doubt his commitment, his desire.

Charles twists away from the hand on his face, and Seb thinks for a second he’s going to get another one of those boasts that Charles seems to only really to share with him, but instead Charles leans in and kisses him. The softness of his lips seems totally alien to what they’re doing here, too open-ended and inviting for their bitter, selfish interludes. Charles sucks gently on his lower lip, and for a second Seb can grasp the outline of what they would be if they weren’t like this. It feels wrong, like he’s stumbled into a private conversation he rather wouldn’t have heard. Luckily Charles breaks the kiss and puts his hands on Seb’s shoulders, squeezing before pressing down with a characteristic insistence.

Seb barely has any room at all to kneel. He sits back on his heels and looks up. “Is this what you wanted?” He’s not about to _give_ Charles anything. He wants to hear him ask— and if he won’t ask, then he’ll need to have the guts to take.

Charles groans but doesn’t reply. He makes quick work of his belt and fly, pushing his underwear down with his jeans. His cock is leaning out towards Seb obscenely; it can only be a few centimeters from his lips. Seb breathes out through his mouth and hopes Charles can feel it ghost over the tip. When he looks up, Charles is biting his lip.

Both of Charles’s hands weave through his hair before guiding Seb’s mouth down onto his dick. _Take it is then,_ Seb thinks, but he stays quiet, letting Charles push him further and further down until he’s threatening to gag. If they were somewhere else, in a hotel, maybe, without a room full of innocent co-workers on the other side of a partition, then Seb would take his time. He would make Charles lean back on the bed and let Seb set the pace. But so far they’ve never made it there, so Charles tightens his fingers in Seb’s hair and slides his cock down Seb’s throat.

Seb focuses in on his breath, on keeping up a rhythm while also not passing out because, well, that would be _admitting defeat._ Just as he is settling into it, Charles tightens his fingers in his hair and pulls his head down so his lips are tight around the base. Seb opens his eyes and looks up. Maybe Charles is trying to get his attention. Charles isn’t looking at him though; he has his face turned towards the mirror. It doesn’t help the sense Seb has gotten that he’s more of a convenient outlet than the real object of Charles’s frustration.

Either way, he hates to be ignored. He runs his hands up to Charles’s hips and drags his nails down Charles’s thighs, digging in hard. Charles gasps and lets go of Seb’s head, then clamps a hand over his own mouth. “Quiet,” Seb whispers, before licking over the head of Charles’s dick and watching it bounce. He sees Charles nod in his peripheral vision and goes back to sucking, following his mouth with his hand and tracing along the underside of Charles’s cock with his tongue. Charles is fucking into his mouth again, but Sebastian draws back enough to leave him wanting. He’s incredibly hard in Sebastian’s mouth, leaking all over the back of Seb’s tongue. Seb figures he must be close and speeds up, letting tunnel vision guide him up and down Charles’s cock, the slick sound unbearably loud in the tiny room.

Charles’s fingers clench and unclench in his hair, his quiet breathing goes ragged. When he comes he thrusts into Seb’s mouth so hard that Seb’s head gets knocked against the wall. The sound makes Seb tense up, but Charles is too far gone to care. He grabs Seb by the shoulder and holds him in place, thrusting roughly over his tongue a few more times before pulling away.

Seb’s knees ache from the floor, but Charles stays leaned over him, one forearm braced on the wall. While he waits for Charles’s to breathing to go back to normal, he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and swallows away the bitter taste of Charles’s come. Finally, Charles leans back and Sebastian can get back to his feet.

He was so focused on the blowjob that he had been able to ignore the erection straining against his pants, but once he is face to face with Charles, his lips parted and shining in the harsh overhead light, the desire comes back just as strong. Every one of his nerve endings feels like they're pulsing with electricity, demanding _something_, either a slap to the face or an orgasm, he doesn't care.

Charles is still doing up his pants, but Seb has to get his down; it can’t wait any longer. He spits into his hand and jerks himself roughly. Charles finishes with his belt and looks over. “Do you want me to—”

Sebastian hauls him closer by the front of his shirt so that he can whisper against his ear again. He keeps sliding his hand over his dick, brushing Charles away when he reaches out.

“So what’s all this really been about, Charles? Is it just that’s it’s nice to finally have someone else to blame?”

“Fuck you.” Charles is getting tired of arguing, Seb can tell, but he can’t stop himself. Bringing back the full force of his arousal also brought back the hot acidic anger that threatened to burn him from the inside out. The words run hot off his tongue before he can even think, setting his pulse racing faster.

“Jerking off by yourself not what you need after a bad weekend?”

“At least I _can_ blame someone else.” Charles replies, rising to the challenge. Seb wants to argue, can feel the thrill of anticipating a fight, but he wants to come, wants to get even with Charles first. He brings his free hand up to cup the back of Charles’s neck.

“I want to come in your mouth.”

Charles bites his lip and Sebastian thinks that maybe he’s gone too far this time, taken their post-race taunts deeper than they can pretend to fix with a quick, frantic fuck behind the nearest closed door. But Charles just looks down at Sebastian’s cock and drops to his knees.

Charles closes his eyes as he wraps his hand around the base and kisses over it slowly. The impossible warmth of Charles’s mouth is so close, but he only parts his lips to lick a wide line over the head. Seb is too close for Charles to be teasing him like this. He runs a hand over Charles’s face, smearing spit across his jaw and rubbing over where his cheeks _should_ be hollowed around his dick. “Come on,” he says, hoping he sounds more authoritative than needy.

Charles runs Seb’s cock along his lips, contemplative, and then finally, _finally,_ swallows him down as far as he can go. The wet velvety heat of Charles’s mouth feels right, like this is where he was meant to be all along. Seb curses himself for going down on his knees as easily as he did. He shouldn’t be this desperate, shouldn’t be chasing down an orgasm out of pure delayed need. He should have had Charles on his knees first, taken his time with him, made him give his all to get Sebastian off.

In the end it doesn’t take much at all. Charles sucks him down in long, deep strokes and rubs over his balls with his palm. He wants Charles to look at him while he does it, is going to tap his cheek and say _Look at me,_ but then Charles’s lips tighten around the base of his cock and it’s too late, he’s coming hard down Charles’s throat. He bites down hard on a knuckle to stop himself from moaning, his hips bucking up in an uneven rhythm, chasing the last of Charles’s tongue against his oversensitive skin. Christ, his fingers and toes are tingling, his ears ringing. He slouches back against the wall.

Charles, for his part, rests his forehead on Seb’s hip and catches his breath. His forehead is sticky with sweat and when he pulls back Seb can see that there’s a drop of come caught on his chin. Must have pulled away too early. Seb licks his thumb and wipes it away, then cleans it off on Charles’s shirt. Charles’s eyes dart up to him, and Seb thinks he’s going to argue, but he seems to catch himself. Seb’s glad; now that it’s over he can’t seem to muster the desire to fight, no matter how urgent and overwhelming it felt before. It’s painfully clear in his mind how they look now, just two tired grown men squeezed together in a tiny box that smells like sex. The glimpse he catches of himself in the mirror isn’t too encouraging either. His hair is sticking up every which way and the flush in his neck still remains in embarrassing patches of pink. This is ridiculous; he should be out there with the team, not playing power games with his teammate. It’s the same thing he tells himself after every weekend. He could swear this off again, but at this point it would just feel like self-delusion.

“I’m going to go,” Sebastian says, unnecessarily, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He always leaves first. Charles nods and gets back on his feet so Seb can get out. Seb reaches for the handle, but his fingers graze Charles’s wrist on the way. It’s crazy, after what they’ve just done, for it to feel so startlingly intimate, but it does. It’s enough that Seb almost apologizes, but he shakes off the feeling and steps out of the stall into the darkened cabin. The jet engines thrum loudly, drowning out the pounding heartbeat that he still feels in his ears. The circulated air is cool on his skin. He pushes away the thought of Charles, the heat that always comes with his cool anger, and heads back to his seat.

**Author's Note:**

> all I know is charles leclerc thirst, write unhealthy relationships, and lie.
> 
> title from man to man by dorian electra (lol)
> 
> this is pure fiction, keep it away from who it’s about etc etc
> 
> tumblr @ redpainterly


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